


Cakes and Companionship

by EvaLilith



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Baking, Diabetes, Fluff, Gen, The Arrangement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaLilith/pseuds/EvaLilith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale suggests a baking day to celebrate the anniversary of the Arrangement. </p>
<p>I do not own Good Omens or any of the characters therein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cakes and Companionship

Crowley didn’t often bother cooking. He preferred restaurants and simply materializing or stealing what he wanted, and of course he didn’t _need_ food at all.

But when they had been drinking at Aziraphale’s last week, Aziraphale had mentioned that it was the anniversary of the Arrangement, the first one since the near-Apocalypse, and he’d just found this recipe book and would Crowley try to like making some cake?

And then they had argued about whose kitchen they should use, and Crowley had— well, he hadn’t _promised_ , since keeping a promise was risky business for a demon, but he had intimated that he would come. If he didn’t, now, it would be impossible to get Aziraphale to come with him to check out the new bar that was opening next month, even by bribing him with sushi.

It wasn’t nearly so fun drinking alone as it had once been.

So Crowley sauntered into Aziraphale’s flat, hands in his pockets.

Aziraphale looked up from the counter cluttered in preparation and frowned. “I thought you were getting the ingredients.

Crowley held up a hand and a bag of flour appeared. “What do we need?”

Aziraphale’s frown deepened, and the flour vanished. “We’re doing this properly. No materialized ingredients, and _definitely_ no ingredients simply whisked here from the neighbor’s kitchen cupboards. Go buy them.”

Crowley joined in the frowning now. “…I could take just a teaspoon of flour from every cupboard on the block and-“

“ _No._ ”

Crowley rolled his serpent eyes behind his sunglasses and walked back out the door.

By the time he returned, Aziraphale was sulking. “What took you so long?”

“I got stuck behind some bloke having trouble with the self-checkout. And no, that is not my own fault, thank you. My _side_ might be responsible for it, but I, personally, am not.” He dropped the bags on the counter. “Look, you didn’t tell me beforehand I was supposed to buy them. Holding a grudge isn’t very angelic.”

Aziraphale sighed, and his frown finally relented. “I suppose you’re right.” He began unloading the ingredients.

Crowley took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He’d forgone the tie today, and wore his least favorite pair of slacks.

Aziraphale pushed the demon’s sunglasses up onto his head. “You’ll just get flour all over them and you won’t be able to see.” He turned and rummaged in a different bag, one that Crowley hadn’t brought in. “Oh, I picked these up earlier in the week.”

Crowley stared at the black apron in Aziraphale’s hands. In the middle of the chest area, there was a small egg with horns, a tail, and a pitchfork.

“…Really? You went for the ‘deviled eggs’ joke?”

“It made me think of you,” Aziraphale protested, reddening. He held up the other object in the bag. It was a white apron that said “My cooking is _Heavenly_ ”.

Crowley sighed. “…Next time we decide on something that involves buying things we wear, I get to pick them.” He took the apron. _Wearing it in private to cover the things I’ll wear in public only makes sense._

It turned out while he was good enough at cooking, he was a bit rubbish at baking.

Aziraphale wasn’t much better, if you went by the amount of mess made, though he at least seemed to know what he was doing as far as getting the ingredients together. Crowley was glad it wasn’t his cupboards covered in cocoa powder, though.

They poured their respective batters into the cake pan. Aziraphale put it in the oven, and the pair of them surveyed the kitchen.

Crowley reached over and rubbed a splotch of cocoa off Aziraphale’s face. “…We can at least ‘cheat’ to clean up, right? After all, the Arrangement is all about compromise.”

Aziraphale reddened and swatted at Crowley’s hand. “…Yes, I suppose so. Will you get the cupboards if I get the bowls?”

“Done, Angel.” Crowley attended to the cupboards and then surveyed himself. The apron actually had done its job, so his clothes didn’t need any attention, though his hair seemed to have a little of every ingredient in it.

He peeled off the apron and took a seat. “…What is it we just made, anyway? I was just following your directions.”

“…You’ll probably make fun of it again. I thought it seemed appropriate.”

“Angel, I helped make it, I can’t really make fun of it,” Crowley said.

“…It’s a half-and-half cake.”

Crowley blinked, which he didn’t do often, then laughed. “…Half angel’s food and half…” He stuck out his tongue. “Devil’ssss food?”

Aziraphale made a face at him. “Don’t do that in my flat, dear boy. And yes. It’s only partly because of the names. I know you’re not fond of rich things, and I do like chocolate…”

Crowley snickered. “I’m not going to call anything corny that ends with you eating something called ‘devil’s food’.”

“It’s a perfectly meaningless name, and you know it. Angel’s food came first because it was fluffy, and so they called the dark version devil’s food, even though chocolate is _clearly_ a concept from my side.”

Crowley waved a hand at him. “Calm down, Angel. It really is appropriate, anyway. That’s what the Arrangement is all about, right? Each of us deals with things from the opposite side that don’t really matter in the grand course of things, and we both get our cake.”

Aziraphale looked away from him, out a window (though Crowley knew it just looked into the alley, so Aziraphale was avoiding looking at him). “That’s not _all_ it’s about.”

“What else, then?” Crowley asked, looking curiously at the Angel. “That pretty much sums up what we Arranged.”

“Yes, but…” Aziraphale smiled. “We arranged it so that we could have afternoons like this.”

Crowley thought about the sudden puff of cocoa into Aziraphale’s face, and the incident with the mixer, and egg dropping right on the egg on his apron, making both of them laugh until they would have turned purple, if they needed to breathe, and decided that even though he would never, _ever_ say so…

He agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request from thewriter8 on Tumblr for cake-making and fluff


End file.
